


Below My Soul

by LunarAsylum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Demon Dean Winchester, Dying Castiel, Knight of Hell Dean, Sam and Dean reunited, Saved Dean Winchester, Search for a Cure, semi-happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To what depths would Castiel go to in order to avoid the inevitable? Dean is a demon, a Knight of Hell, and everyone looks to him for the answers, and he's willing to look where he will never find it. That doesn't negate the fact that he is dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Below My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a good friend of mine who has decided to do a prompt challenge with me. We give each other a three worded prompt (a noun, a verb, and an adjective) and then we go to town with it to write ourselves a fic. So I highly recommend you go check out in_factorem_verba! She's a fantastic author who focuses more on the Marvel/Thor side of life (which frankly, I adore <3). I'll start attaching the prompts for the prompt!stories that I do!
> 
> Prompt: Theory, Speak, Moaning

 

 

Wails echoed throughout all of Heaven, the image of a shattered heart relayed through the pain that laced into every note. It was enough to make one wince with the idea of the pain that he was going through, but never enough to truly experience it. All angels knew who's voice it was, but only some knew why it rang out so loud and anguished. Then, words reverberated through the mind of each angel, giving them the perspective they needed.

 

' _Dean Winchester is dead'_

 

All angels knew of the bond that Castiel had with the Winchester, they knew of the emotion that the human had invoked in him, urging him in a path that few had dared to take. Yet, Castiel had succeeded in choosing his own path in some aspects. There were mistakes, and wrong choices made, but it was a choice nonetheless.

 

Now, his choices had led to the fall of the human he had vowed to protect more than himself. Castiel was broken. He managed to keep his facade together, but all of those in contact with him knew he was a broken angel. Once his work was finished, he had taken leave from Heaven, for what purposes on Earth, no one really knew.

 

Castiel wandered the Earth for days, doing what he could to keep himself occupied in the absences of the Winchesters. He was able to keep an eye on Sam, but he decided to stop after seeing the monster that he was slowly becoming. It wasn't long after he had landed on Earth that he had heard news of a demon scouring the surface, one who was wreaking havoc on town after town.

 

The angel decided to investigate the issues, since it was happening so quickly and so conspicuously that it was abnormal, and what he found was worse than he could have imagined. Dean, now a Knight of Hell, was taking his merry way with the world. Stunned, Castiel ran from what he saw, unwilling to accept and confront the problem that was now Dean.

 

He could no longer run when the problem came to him in the form of Crowley, asking for his assistance.

 

“Cas,” he greeted the angel, chuckling in his nonchalant manner. “It's been a while.”

 

“I've been purposefully avoiding things,” he said darkly, turning to face the King. “What do you want, Crowley?”

 

“I... actually, am in a bit of a sticky situation.”

 

“With Dean, I presume.”

 

“You would be right.”

 

“And what you do think I can do? You did this to him. Is it not working out like you planned?” Castiel asked, his irritation clear as he advanced on the demon. “Perhaps, next time, you should carefully evaluate your plans before they exceed you.”

 

“You mean like you have.”

 

Castiel was not in the mood for games, shoving Crowley up against the wall.

 

“If you don't want me to tear you to pieces, you better tell me what you want, now, Crowley.”

 

“That cure, that Moose used on me,” Crowley started, his eyes showing a little bit of fear. “Do you think that would work on Dean?”

 

Castiel was taken aback by that, releasing Crowley as he took a step back. He never would've suspected the King of Hell trying to fix his new pet, but perhaps Dean was turning out to be much more than he could take on.

 

“I... do not know,” he said, inhaling deeply. “He is not a normal demon. I was surprised it worked at all.”

 

“It's a theory we could try,” Crowley offered.

 

“Why would you want to turn Dean human again? Are you not enjoying your time together?”

 

“Jealous?” the King countered, tilting his head slightly. “It's not that I'm not enjoying it, per say, but it's certainly gotten out of hand.”

 

“Weren't you the one who once said you didn't underestimate the Winchesters?” Castiel responded, causing Crowley to scoff.

 

“How was I supposed to know that his Winchester-ness would translate into him being a demon?”

 

“Because he is not a normal demon, Crowley. You feared Cain, why would you not fear Dean?”

 

Crowley frowned at that, before shrugging.

 

“You raise a valid point.”

 

Castiel offered no response to that.

 

“So I have a favor to ask.”

 

“You have the gall to ask a favor of me?”

 

“I do. I'm probably dead one way or another, so, Cas, darling, I ask if you will help me. I dare not contact Moose, simply because I have a feeling he's out for my hide.”

 

“You want me to take your theory to Sam?”

 

“Would be lovely.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I thought we had already gone over this question.”

 

“No, why would you want me to take it Sam? Sam will probably try to kill Dean when he sees him.”

 

“You raise another valid point.”

 

“I'm just full of them,” Castiel retorted. “I will not tell Sam. If you want to employ Sam's assistance, then you ask him. I'm not your... messenger.”

 

With a flurry of wings, Castiel was gone, leaving Crowley behind to ponder his thoughts on what to do with Dean.

 

Meanwhile, Castiel occupied himself with petty problems of Earth, trying his best to decide on how to handle the biggest problem at hand: Dean. He searched every where, found lorewalkers from all over, but he found no answer. He was losing hope that there was a way to cure Dean.

 

One day, out of the blue, he heard a family voice praying to him.

 

' _Cas. Hey, Cas, we need to talk to you. If you could come on down, that'd be great.'_

 

Castiel was there faster than he had ever responded to the boys before, the familiar atmosphere of the bunker surrounding him. Dean's back was to him, but it was more than enough for the angel to see the demon lurking beneath the flesh, causing him to take a step back.

 

“You don't need to be afraid, Cas,” Dean said as he turned around. Sam was off a couple feet behind him, sitting at the table. “We need your help.”

 

“Dean, what do you possibly think I can offer you?” Castiel asked, his brow furrowed. Why did everyone assume he was able to help. He couldn't help himself, and there was surely no way he could help Dean.

 

“We're trying to find a cure. We're going to seek out Cain, see if there's anything he knows, but I was thinking maybe you could go upstairs, see if anyone knows anything up there.”

 

“I've searched for months, Dean, and I've found nothing,” he said, taking a step forward.

 

“Wait, for months?” Sam interrupted, leaning forward in his seat. “How long have you know?”

 

Castiel raised his head a little, looking down his nose at both of them.

 

“Probably a month or so after we imprisoned Metatron,” he responded, averting his eyes from them.

 

“And you didn't find me?”

 

“Why would I seek you out, Sam? You seemed to be doing just fine on your own,” Castiel retorted, feeling uneasy about being around both of them. Their souls had darkened immensely and it made his hair stand on end.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“Enough!” Dean interrupted, looking between Sam and Castiel. “We don't need to have this discussion. It's done and over with, there's no griping about the past. Not now. So, will you do it, Cas? For me?”

 

Castiel inhaled, letting it out slowly as he let himself become immersed in his surroundings. There was never any chance in him telling Dean no. For as long as he could remember knowing Dean, he had never really denied the other except for once.

 

“Yes, Dean, I will do it,” he said, after several long moments of consideration. He could feel the release of anxiety from both Sam and Dean at his response.

 

“By the way, Cas, what's goin' on?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You look horrible.”

 

“I look no different than I normally do, Dean.”

 

“No, I mean _you._ Not your vessel, you,” the demon said, approaching Castiel. “Your wings are... falling apart, Cas. Have you not done anything about your Grace.”

 

“There's nothing to do about the Grace.”

 

Before Dean could respond to that, Castiel was gone with a woosh of air, rustling Dean's hair a little. Cursing, the demon turned back to his brother so that they could focus on their own plans.

 

Castiel's search was renewed, and he went and searched places he had not considered looking before. He roamed through yards and yards of books in the library of Heaven, looking for anything that even remotely pertained to demons or Knights of Hell. Tirelessly, he searched and searched, ignoring the prayers of Dean who was constantly calling on him.

 

He didn't want to discuss his receding Grace, knowing that Dean would persist on putting him first if any trace of his humanity was really there. That was the kind of person he had grown to know the Winchester to be. Especially since he would lay claim to the eternity he now had to search for a cure for himself.

 

There were a few times where he answered Dean's call, simply to update him on his search, but he never stayed long. He could hear the questioning in the Knight's voice when they spoke. Castiel couldn't bear to look at him for too long, because all he could see were the twisted and frayed bits of Dean's demonized soul.

 

It hurt him like he could have never imagined, seeing Dean's soul that way. A soul that he had once been intimate with as he rescued it from Hell, restoring and easing it back into humanity. Sometimes, it felt like he was being poisoned when he looked at Dean, no long really seeing the bright green eyes that used to greet him warmly. He no longer saw the gentle quirk of his lips when he would speak with him. All it was, now, was murky light that seemed more likely to drown you than save you.

 

Castiel couldn't stand it, and it hurt him to know that he was distancing himself from Dean inexplicably. He hoped he died before all of this became a large disappointment. There was no way that he could live until the end of times, knowing that Dean was there, too, but as his enemy instead of his best friend.

 

So he let his search rage on and on, laying all his hopes down that either there would be a cure, or he would die long before he could deliver the disappointing news that there was no cure. Every few weeks, a prayer would follow him, Dean's voice ebbing into his subconscious, asking for him to come see him. Every time he ignored it, it seemed to chip away a little piece of himself.

 

He was nearly wasted away, having search all over the world and Heaven for a cure, when there came a call from Dean. Elation bubbled beneath the surface as he listened to him carefully. In a large burst of energy, Castiel exclaimed that Dean had been saved, but that had had its consequences as he felt his essence become heavy and everything became dark.

 

When he could see again, he was falling away from everything he knew, the weight of the world seeming to crush him from below as his body began to disintegrate. His life force raged and glowed around him, shining blue against the night sky. The people of Earth assumed he was another shooting star until he was no more, and a large burst of angelic energy shot across the sky.

 

Dean and Sam were in the crowd of those who had witnessed Castiel's end, but there weren't aware of what it was. Celebrating on the hood of the Impala, both of them continued to smile at the night sky until a voice drawled behind them.

 

“I assume you aren't aware of what you just witnessed, then,” Crowley called, standing near the trunk of the car.

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, pushing away from the car to face the demon.

 

“That was no ordinary shooting star, Dean. Well, to other people it might've been, but to you, it was a very special star,” he spoke in metaphors, annoying the older Winchester.

 

“Get to the point, Crowley,” the brunette snapped, beer bottle folded in the crook of his arm.

 

“That star was our very own Castiel, dying,” Crowley said simply, his eyes focused on Dean for the better view.

 

“What?” Sam said, sliding off the hood of the car to face the King of Hell.

 

“There's no way. You're lyin',” Dean growled, looking defensive and terrified.

 

“Oh, no, Dean. I've sworn off lying. Cross my heart,” he said, still fixated on the shorter Winchester. It was worth the absolutely crushing anguish that melted into Dean's expression, his beer falling to the ground with a muffled crash as it broke into pieces.

 

Why was it when anything ever seemed to be accomplished, someone _always_ died?

 


End file.
